Messa Chronicles 2: Breaking the Pact
by metallover
Summary: Bam and Aaron are back, and this time, it's personal. So personal in fact, Bam's up against his own brother!


**Black Drakes #2**

**Breaking the Pact**

_By: Metallover_

_It'd been two months since the Fubuki's had their asses handed to them by us. We cut off the head, and the other underhive gangs took the body. But the important thing is, we gave ourselves a rep. Everyone talks about the 'Black Drakes that killed Gerrold Fubuki'. We had the rep, we had the gang, and it was time to show the rest of the underhive just what we were capable of._

Bam Lockehart, leader of the Black Drakes, deactivated his humming power sword. The sword, beautifully crafted, was a gift from his uncle who lived in the uphive. It was thin and slender, and gave off an air of fragility, but the truth was it was the strongest thing he'd ever seen. The blade hade a soft blue sheen when it was activated, and the hilt was gold plated, with the pommel ending in a stylized dragon's head.

He stopped admiring his blade to look around him. Seven dead gangers, all Sons of Set. The Sons were one of the four major underhive gangs; The Lords of Ruin, The Black Drakes, the now non-existent Fubukis, and the Sons. Set was there leader, a huge, dark skinned man that had seen better days. But the seven gangers lying at his feet were just the opposite. Untested newbies, stupid enough to pick a fight with the leader of the Black Drakes sect of Sump City, the unoficial name of their sector. Bam's sector, and he'd be damned if he'd let the Son's of Set barge in a couple of months after he'd chased out the Fubukis.

Bam stumbled and fell.

"Aw, damn, that's right," Bam said to himself, pulling himself into a sitting position. "I'm drunk."

Slumping back down, he let unconciousness take him.

Aaron Northern, second in command of the Black Drakes Sump City Branch under Bam Lockehart. That's what his ID tags said. His tatoo identified him as 'Azza', and the other gangs knew him as Azza the Nut. He'd earned this before he'd gotten clean, when he'd go into every gang fight high as the upper spire. Now he was just Azza. 2IC of his gang, killer of rival gangs, and collector of drunken idiots.

Bam, draped over Aaron's shoulders, stirred, mumbling about his sword.

"Drunken idiot," Aaron said under his breath. "Still can't hold your gakking alcohol."

Four times this week Bam'd been out too late and Aaron'd been sent to get him. John was still healling, Michael and Ellie were hardly ever there, and the other girls couldn't lift him if they all tried together. So it came down to Aaron.

He reached the hab they currently claimed residence over, sometime in between Bam had puking all over the back of his favourite jacket and Aaron dropping him for the twelvth time, and knocked twice. John opened the door, his crutches held under one arm.

"He still in one piece?" John asked.

"His dinner's all over my back, but I suppose that doesn't count," Aaron said, walking in and throwing Bam onto the sofa, where he threw up again.

Aaron threw Bam's sword through the doorway to his room.

"Oh, how charming," Lucca said, walking in.

"Lucca," Aaron greeted her, shaking his jacket to get the contents of Bam's stomach off.

"I suppose I'll be the one expected to clean him up, then?" Lucca asked, crossing her arms.

"Yep, I brought him in, you clean him," Aaron said, hanging his jacket up, and looking at the stain that would never come off. "Bastard owes me a new jacket."

"I'm going back to bed," John said, limping away. "It'll be dawn soon."

"You going to be right with him?" Aaron asked Lucca.

"I've done it so many times it's lost all meaning," she said, kneeling near Bam.

Aaron shrugged and walked off towards his room, turning back at the doorway to see Lucca trying to gently coax Bam out of his jacket, leaned up against the door frame, and smiled. He knew the two would end up together, the question was not of how, but when.

Still smiling, he turnned and closed his door, and began getting ready for sleep.

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

A groggy hand reached out from under an old blanket to turn off the alarm. After several attempts to press the unyeilding 'snooze' button, the hand threw the small clock at the wall, and retreated back under the blanket.

A few minutes later the hand reemerged, followed by the rest of Aaron Northern.

"Damn you Bam," Aaron moaned. "Now you can buy me a new alarm, too."

Aaron slumped out of bed, crawled into his pants, and walked into the main living area, where Bam was still passed out on the couch.

"Wake up," Aaron said, kicking the sofa, being carefull to avoid any bits of vommit Lucca had missed. "Up, gak you, up!"

Bam groaned, opened his eyes a little, then placed a hand to his forehead.

"And the time is?" Bam asked, moaning afterwards.

"Time for you to stop getting so hammered every night. We're not sixteen any more," Aaron said, sitting on the arm of the couch.

"Don't lecture me, I have a hangover," Bam moanned, rolling over, away from the light.

John was now seventeen, the legal Messan drinking age. Bam, seeing an oppertunity, took full advantage of this. Besides the fact that no one cared how old they were anyway.

"My point exactly," Aaron said, getting up.

"Where is everyone?" Bam asked, rolling to face up.

"Gakked if I know, probably out doing their jobs instead of drinking," Aaron joked, moving to inspect the kitchen of the hab, which was also empty. There was a note attatched to the cooler.

_Bam & Aaron,_

_Food's almost out, gone to buy more. Michael should be back today. Just giving you guys a heads up. See you later,_

_John and the Girls_

"They've gone food shopping," Aaron called to Bam.

"I'm assuming that means there's no food left," Bam called back.

"More or less," a familiar voice answered before Aaron had the chance to.

"What the hell!?" Aaron yelled, spinning around.

Michael, in all his red-headed-psyker glory was standing right behind him.

"God I love doing that," Michael said, taking the letter.

"Will you stop doing that!" Aaron yelled.

"I think Michael's here," Bam called from the main room.

"Yes, thank you for stating the obvious," Aaron called back, moving to the pantry in hopes of finding something at least partially eddible.

He was sorely dissapointed.

"Looks like we eat out for breakfast," Michael said, looking over Aaron's shoulder.

"Guess so," Bam agreed, coming into the room.

"Wow, someone's hung over," Michael laughed.

"Shut up," Bam told him, rooting through the drawrs, and pulling out his sun shades. "The liver is evil, and must be punished."

"Why are your shades in the kitchen?" Aaron laughed.

"So I don't forget where they are," Bam said with a grin.

"Fair enough," Aaron said, walking into the main room, followed by Michael, then a unsteady Bam, strapping his sword to his belt.

"I'm never drinking again," Bam said, pulling on his boots.

"That's what you said last time," Aaron told him.

"And the time before that," Michael agreed.

"And the time before that," Aaron added, lacing up his boots.

"Alright, alright, so I have a problem," Bam admitted.

"Good for you," Michael said, patting Bam on the back. "The first step of beating your problem is admitting you've got one."

"Can we eat first?" Aaron asked. "I'm gakking hungry. oh, and you owe me a jacket. Make it puke green so that no one'll be able to tell next time you throw up on it."

The velvet rope was a dump, and why they ate there Aaron would never know. It was a resteraunt, a bar, and a whore house, all in one. Bam liked it, for all three reasons. He could drink til he threw up, eat to replace the food he lost, and then go upstairs and work off the new food. Hell, Bam practically lived there.

"I want to throw up," Bam moanned, slumping into a chair.

"Too bad you have nothing left in that stomach," John said, sitting opposite his hungover friend.

"It's simple psychology," Michael said, sitting and looking at a menu. "This is where you drink, and get drunk to the point of passing out. So, in theory, your brain tries to protect what few cells it has left by making you queasy in the place it thinks will lead to more harm."

Aaron and Bam stopped and looked at each other. Then as one burst out laughing.

"Where do you come up with that crap?" Aaron laughed.

Michael sighed and muttered about inbred hicks, hiding behind his menu.

"Hey, Bam," Aaron warnned. "Brother."

With Bam's back turnned to the entry he couldn't see, but true enough Bam's older brother Jacob walked through the door, his hangers on Davis and Tilly in tow.

"Oh for Emperor's sake," Bam curssed. "What now?"

Bam's relationship with both his brothers had gone down hill since their parents died and the other two went up hive to live with their uncle. Bam, who hated Uncle Demetrious, opted to stay in the slums, where he was comfortable. The other two tried, and failed, to convince him to move up hive many times. Jacob had returnned down hive to keep an eye on Bam as a bounty hunter some three years ago. Bam turnned and risked a glance at his brother.

"He looks pissed," Michael said, still hidden behind the menu.

"How the hell would you -- oh, right, the powers."

At this point Davis tapped Jacob on the arm and pointed out the three gangers.

"Little gakking brother!" Jacob called out. "You've gone and done it now!"

"Damnit!" Bam sighed, laying his head on the table and covering it with his hands. "I am way, way, way too hung over for this."

"Then don't drink," Aaron told him as Jacob walked over, pulling his sword out from his back sheath.

Jacob's sword was huge, larger by far than Bam's. But, unlike Bam's power sword, Jacob's was a huge, heavy, sharp piece of metal.

"You have a bounty," Davis said, stepping back to the door, away from the fight that was obviously about to happen. "We're here to collect.

"We need him at least twenty percent intact for the bounty, so don't carve him up too bad," Tilly added, standing with Davis.

"We don't have to do this," Bam said, standing to face his brother. "I don't want to have to hurt you."

"Shut it!" Jacob yelled, attacking from above and crushing the Ganger's table. "I'm taking you down!"

Bam shook his head and drew his sword.

"Fine. But I warnned you."

Bam swung low, aiming for Jacob's feet, but he jumped and brought his sword up diagonally from where he crushed the table. Bam ducked his brother's wild swing and lashed out with his elbow, slamming it into Jacob's ribs.

Michael and Aaron went to stand over near Davis and Tilly to watch.

"Wow, Bam's gotten really good," Tilly remarked.

"He hasn't been sitting around doing nothing for the last three years," Aaron told them.

"Good to see ya again, mate," Davis said, shaking Aaron's hand. "You're new," he added, looking at Michael.

"Michael Kamen. I'm a new part of his gang."

The four made light conversation, seemingly oblivious to the fact both their leaders were tearing up the bar.

Jacob kicked an upturnned table at Bam, using it to cover his advance. Bam neatly bisected it, and spun raisning his sword. The two swords met briefly before Jacob's gave way and Bam's slid neatly through it.

"Okay, game over," Bam siad, his back turnned to his brother.

Turning, Bam found himself staring down the barrel of his brother's pistol.

"I never did play fair, did I?"

The last thing Bam saw was the butt of Jacob's gun rushing to his forehead.

"Do they allways fight like that?" Michael asked Aaron as the two walked back to their base.

"All the time," Aaron replied, sighing. "And they allways manage to tear up the Rope, too."

They made it back to the hab without further incident.

"Hole sweet hole," Aaron lamented, stepping inside.

He was greeted by another note.

_Guys,_

_Something's come up, John's in serious pain, so we brought him to the clinic up hive. Food's in the kitchen,_

_Alex_

"Great," Aaron said, looking at the note.

"I'll say!" Michael called from the kitchen. "Real food! Hey sis!"

"What?" Aaron called back.

"Can I see that?" Ellie asked from behind Aaron, causing him to yelp.

"For shit's sake! Do either of you know how to make your prescence known!?"

"I gave you fair warning," Michael said, poking his head into the main room, his mouth full of food. "Just cause you're an idiot."

"The term is 'normy', brother," Ellie said, putting down the note and walking over to him. "Don't talk with your mouth full," she added, smacking him in the back of the head.

Michael said something uninteligable that, to Aaron, sounded like 'up yours', which earned him another smack.

Aaron walked into his room away from the squabling siblings. He was starting to get worried about Bam, usually by now he was back, a little worse for wear, but mostly whole. Jacob must've been serious. Aaron made up his mind, and put his pistols into his holsters. He then grabbed his prized weapon, a chain sword, and it's back sheath, and put them on.

"I'm going out," he called to the kitchen, wher the two arguing psykers could still be heard. As Aaron walked out of the hab he heard a smash and a crackle like lightning. He hoped they didn't wreck the house like last time.

Mid hive city was the only habitable space in the vast crevas between the up hive sectors and the down hive slums. All the rest was full of pipes and support girders, with no space for buildings. Mid hive, however, had been purposley left free to maintain a link between the two. It also maintained a large market, where the up hivers sold junk, weapons and trinkets and the down hivers sold junk and pieces of lost tech from excavation sites deep in the underhive where mortals feared to tread. But mostly, it was a market for junk no one needed. And it was also the staging point for every bounty hunter in the hive. Including Jacob Lockeheart's base.

Aaron walked through the streets of Mid Hive, dodging and weaving the thousands of people going about their daily activities, and tried his best to ignore the peddlers with shiny things, and even harder to ignore the whores and prostitutes that lined the street.

As far as Aaron could remember, Jacob's hideout was on this street above a weapons merchant's store, which also said a lot about why the guy always had a new toy to play with.

The shop, _Metal Arms Inc._, was a major supplier to all the bounty hunters in mid hive, and the space above it was much sought after. Jacob had managed to procure it after saving the merchant owner's daughter from a group of stupid gangers from the Sons of Set, who, coincedentaly happenned to have laied claim to all of Mid Hive. They were everywhere, and Aaron stood out like a sore thumb as not being one of them. He wore a large overcoat to try to disguise the fact he was from further downhive. The last thing he wanted was to be beaten to death.

Aaron arrived at the merchant's store and went straight for the stairs. The rules were that all bounty hunter's bases were neutral zones, just as the bounty hunters themselves were neutral. Of course, most still had alleigances in one gang or another, but that was to be expected, they had to work with someone.

At the top of the stairs Aaron was stopped by a big guy with Sons of Set tattoos.

"Can't come up here. Piss off before I hurt."

Aaron grinned. "Yes, I suppose you should leave before you get hurt."

The big man's brow furlled in confusion. Most down hivers were uneducated, but this guy was a bonified idiot, probly slow from a childhood injury. He grunted and lifted a large club, probly a part of a support pole or something, Aaron thought.

Aaron might not have a fancy education, but he was still smart. Smart enough to know one hit from the gorilla of a man would kill him. He rolled to the left as the club came down, right past the big ganger, and further into the hallway.

If there was a ganger guarding the stairs, then that meant that there'd be more of them, and that in turn meant that the Sons of Set were breaking the rules by trying to influence a bounty hunter. No gang was allowed to recruit a bounty hunter, or put a bounty on another gang member. The bountyhunters were minions of the up hive executives, and as long as their pets were left alone, they ignored the blatent illegal activities of the down hive gangs.

And now the Sons of Set were putting themall in jeapordy by breaking that pact.

Aaron turned and, all in the same movement, drew his chainsword, activated it, and cut the big man shoulder to groin. He wasn't in the mood to mess around, he just wanted Bam and to get the hell out of this place.

Bam came to in a dimly lit room, his hands tied. He knew this place like he knew the Velvet Rope. It was his brother's hab, and coming out of the main room he could hear yelling.

"I will not hand him over to you! You didn't say you were a ganger!"

That was Jacob.

"Bounty hunters are supposed to be neutral."

There was Davis.

"And what makes you think you can just barge in here and give us orders, smelly!?"

Bam squeezed his eyes closed and sighed. And there was Tilly, obviously trying to get herself killed.

There was a deep, booming laugh, that Bam thought he recognized. Then it clicked.

"Set gives orders, you take them! This is Set's jurisdiction, you living in it, you Set's tennants!"

Set, leader of the Sons of Set, had come to collect Bam personally.

Aaron kept moving down the corridor, his gently purring chainsword in hand.

From nowhere Jacob, with Bam over his shoulder, followed by Davis and Tilly, came running round the corner.

"What in the," aaron started.

"No time! Run!" Jacob interrupted, spinning Aaron and giving him a shove.

Aaron was about to ask why when a las bolt hit the wall space his head had been in a few seconds ago.

The four ran, Jacob still carrying a tied up and pissed off looking Bam.

They got through the weapons merchant and into the street, where Jacob sumarized they'd be able to loose Set and his lackeys.

They did just that, running through the crowd, able to slip through them easier than the bulky Sons of Set, who all took muscle expansions to try to look more like their leader.

At the gate to the under hive, they stopped, just inside the Black Drakes jurisdiction.

"Alright, now I'm pissed off," Jacob said, putting Bam down and untying him. "Look, little brother, I didn't know it was Set who'd put that bounty on your head, or I never would have brought you in."

"You shouldn't have brought me in at all," Bam said angrily. "You left my gakking sword in your hab!"

Tilly threw Bam's swordd at his feet. "Shut up and take it."

"What're you gonna do now?" Aaron asked before Bam and Tilly could start fighting.

Jacob shrugged and sighed.

"What can I do? I guess I go to the Black Drakes stronghold and contact Uncle D."

"So in other words, you want us to take you to the secret hidden Black Drakes stronghold to contact our Uncle, whom I hate with a burning passion?"

"That more or less covers it, yeah," Jacob agreed.

Bam though for a second. This meant that his brother would be breaking the pact, and further endangering the stability of the downhive. But it was personal now. Set had tried to kill him and his brother, so Bam assumed that breaking the rules wouldn't kill anyone. Anyone important, anyway.

"What're the chances Uncle D'll send down a few spyrer rigs?" Bam asked, refering to the high tech combat suits that the up hive wealthy caste sometimes wore when they ventured into the underhive.

"To get me back?" Jacob grinned. "He'll probably send one down for you."

Now it was Bam's turn to grin.

"I guess we can make some sort of arrangement. Prisoner."

Jacob barely had time to register Bam's words before the butt of his brother's pistol came smashing down on the bridge of his nose, knocking him out cold.

"Was that really nesscessary?" Davis asked doubtfully.

"Nope, but it has to look convincing somehow. And I feel so much better now."

_To be continued..._

**Author's Note**

Okay, so I decided to go a whole diffrent direction with this than I did originally. I got bored, what can I say? But do not despair! The new Warhammer 40k rulebook just came out, which is sure to inspire me back to doing fan fics! As allways, all constructive criticism is appreciated.


End file.
